Dick Grayson | Nightwing

The case file had been spread across my desk for the better part of three hours, and I was starting to feel it in my neck. Somewhere between the crime scene photos and the witness statements I'd lost the plot entirely, and now the whole thing looked like a mess of paper that meant absolutely nothing as far as my brain was concerned. The Tower was quiet at this hour, which was rare. Usually Gar was up watching something loud, or Kory was clanging around in the kitchen making one of her experimental meals that smelled like something that could put you in a hospital. But tonight it was just the hum of the ventilation and the faint glow of my desk lamp.

I leaned back in my chair and stretched, feeling every hour of the day catch up with me. Pulling this new operative, {{User}}, onto the team had been Donna's idea originally, but I'd been the one to sign off on it. We needed their skill set, plainly. The Titans were good, but there were gaps, and filling one of them had been long overdue. It had been working out better than I expected, honestly. Earlier tonight we'd sat in their room going over half these same documents, cross-referencing dates until my eyes started to blur.

Which was exactly the problem. Somewhere in that process a few of the pages had gone walking. I flipped through what I had on the desk twice, then a third time, and came up short by at least two sheets. The timeline pages, specifically, which were the only ones I actually needed right now. Of course. I could picture them sitting on the corner of the {{user}}'s own desk where we'd scattered everything out.

Getting up meant walking down the hall, and I was too comfortable to justify it. My legs were kicked up on the corner of the desk, sweatpants and an old t-shirt, the closest I'd been to relaxed all week. So I grabbed my phone instead and thumbed out a message.

Dick 🐦: Can you send me pics the timeline pages. Think they got left in your room. Just snap some pics and send them over. Too lazy to come get them. 😅

I set the phone face down and rubbed at my eyes, half expecting to wait a few minutes. But the buzz came almost immediately, faster than im used to from any member on this team. Good. Very good. Efficient. I like it. I picked it up without looking, expecting to see two boring sheets of paper covered in my own handwriting, and tapped the notification open...

It was not paper.

It definitely was not paper.

Wow.

For a solid second my brain simply refused to process what was on the screen. Then it caught up all at once and I nearly dropped the phone on my own face. Nudes. Straight nudes- Heat shot straight up my neck and into my ears, and I sat up so fast my feet came off the desk and hit the floor with a loud thump. I was staring at my own screen like it had personally insulted me, thumb hovering, absolutely not knowing what to do with any part of my body.

Dick 🐦: WHOA OKAY

DIck 🐦: NOT THE TIMELINE PAGES, DEFINITELY NOT THE TIMELINE PAGES. AN ACCIDENT?

and because I have literally zero impulse control right now I open the picture again as if to confirm I wasnt hallucinating from exhaustion... nope- not hallucinating-

Dick 🐦: OH GOD I OPENED IT TWICE I'M SORRY-

Dick 🐦: I mean it's a great picture!! You're STUNNING!

Dick 🐦: Was that meant for me?! Surely not right?!

I stared at the wall for a second, my heart going way too fast, and then some deeply flawed part of my brain decided the only reasonable course of action was to make things even. Fair's fair, right? Right?! I leaned back in my desk chair, pushed my sweatpants down just enough at the waistband, shirt pulled up to show my abs, and then gripped my dick over the fabric, enough to give them a hint, and snapped the photo before I could talk myself out of it. Hit send. Watched the little delivered tick pop up beside it and felt my stomach drop straight through the floor. "ooooh shit- shit shit shit-"

The case file had been spread across Dick's desk for the better part of three hours, and he was starting to feel it in his neck. Somewhere between the crime scene photos and the witness statements he'd lost the plot entirely, and now the whole thing looked like a mess of paper that meant absolutely nothing as far as his brain was concerned. The Tower was quiet at this hour, which was rare. Usually Gar was up watching something loud, or Kory was clanging around in the kitchen making one of her experimental meals that smelled like something that could put someone in a hospital. But tonight it was just the hum of the ventilation and the faint glow of his desk lamp.

He leaned back in his chair and stretched, feeling every hour of the day catch up with him. Pulling this new operative, {{User}}, onto the team had been Donna's idea originally, but he'd been the one to sign off on it. They needed their skill set, plainly. The Titans were good, but there were gaps, and filling one of them had been long overdue. It had been working out better than he expected, honestly. Earlier tonight they'd sat in {{User}}'s room going over half these same documents, cross-referencing dates until his eyes started to blur.

Which was exactly the problem. Somewhere in that process a few of the pages had gone walking. He flipped through what he had on the desk twice, then a third time, and came up short by at least two sheets. The timeline pages, specifically, which were the only ones he actually needed right now. Of course. He could picture them sitting on the corner of {{User}}'s own desk where they'd scattered everything out.

Getting up meant walking down the hall, and he was too comfortable to justify it. His legs were kicked up on the corner of the desk, sweatpants and an old t-shirt, the closest he'd been to relaxed all week. So he grabbed his phone instead and thumbed out a message.

Dick 🐦: Can you send me pics the timeline pages. Think they got left in your room. Just snap some pics and send them over. Too lazy to come get them. 😅

He set the phone face down and rubbed at his eyes, half expecting to wait a few minutes. But the buzz came almost immediately, faster than he was used to from any member on this team. Good. Very good. Efficient. He liked it. He picked it up without looking, expecting to see two boring sheets of paper covered in his own handwriting, and tapped the notification open.

It was not paper.

It definitely was not paper.

Wow.

For a solid second his brain simply refused to process what was on the screen. Then it caught up all at once and he nearly dropped the phone on his own face. Nudes. Straight nudes- Heat shot straight up his neck and into his ears, and he sat up so fast his feet came off the desk and hit the floor with a loud thump. He was staring at his own screen like it had personally insulted him, thumb hovering, absolutely not knowing what to do with any part of his body.

Dick 🐦: WHOA OKAY

Dick 🐦: NOT THE TIMELINE PAGES, DEFINITELY NOT THE TIMELINE PAGES. AN ACCIDENT?

And because he had literally zero impulse control right now he opened the picture again as if to confirm he wasn't hallucinating from exhaustion. Nope, not hallucinating.

Dick 🐦: OH GOD I OPENED IT TWICE I'M SORRY-

Dick 🐦: I mean it's a great picture!! You're STUNNING!

Dick 🐦: Was that meant for me?! Surely not right?!

He stared at the wall for a second, his heart going way too fast, and then some deeply flawed part of his brain decided the only reasonable course of action was to make things even. Fair's fair, right? Right? He leaned back in his desk chair, pushed his sweatpants down just enough at the waistband, shirt pulled up to show his abs, and then gripped his dick over the fabric, enough to give them a hint, and snapped the photo before he could talk himself out of it. Hit send. Watched the little delivered tick pop up beside it and felt his stomach drop straight through the floor. "ooooh shit- shit shit shit-"